The Course of True Love
by Viridis Lupus
Summary: Set after 3x07. Charming tells Hook to leave his daughter alone so that she can find her true love and her happy ending with Neal but what if that's not how real life works? What if true love is not always as simple as you think? After all true love's course never did run smoothly as everyone is about to discover with terrible consequences...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note - Hey, new to the fandom, though I have written a lot of fanfiction before. Sorry for any English eccentricities :-) This is set after the latest episode (3x07)**

* * *

He watched the fire flickering in the center of the camp, casting its dancing light on the faces of those surrounding it, including her. Her smooth face was illuminated in a golden glow that made her look even more beautiful than he thought possible. She looked delicate and strong at the same time like a single flower standing tall in a snow drift.

"Hook!"

Captain Hook snapped from his thoughts like he'd been bitten, glancing round to see who had said his name. It was Charming. He looked angry and Hook quickly scanned his mind for something he could have done to upset him. He came up blank.

"You alright, mate?" Hook replied, shooting the prince his most charming smile.

"Yeah, I just thought we could do with collecting some more firewood," David said, his voice even.

Hook scrutinised him for a moment, unable to detect whether this was another one of 'those' trips into the wilderness that included fist fights and overprotective-father-episodes. Sometimes he wondered whether the Charmings thought he was here for a laugh, to enjoy their misery and destroy their family, and not because he cared about doing something good for someone. He knew he didn't have the best form in the past but he thought that considering all he'd risked for them so far that they would cut him a bit of slack.

"Ah, yes, we do look like we are running rather low," he agreed, eyeing the fire that was still burning fiercely. Wearily he pushed himself to his feet and dusted off his leather trousers. "Into the jungle then…" His voice rose in volume with fake melodrama but didn't seem to disturb the people around the fire who were still staring intently into nothingness. He glanced at Emma but she was too caught up in her own worries to notice him.

Charming walked towards him and caught his arm, practically dragging him into the trees. Hook fought the urge to yank himself free as he knew it would only make this little chat more hostile. Instead he allowed himself to be pulled several hundred feet into the dark shadows of the trees until Charming stopped and released his grip. Subconsciously, Hook rubbed his arm and stared warily at his companion; his light blue eyes assessing the exits in case he needed an abrupt departure.

"I think you know what this is about," Charming began, his handsome face furrowed with intensity.

Hook took a moment to consider his reply then shrugged and said, nonchalantly, "To be honest, my lord good prince, can't say that I do." His lip curled in a sly smile, especially when he saw Charming's expression darken even further. Perhaps he shouldn't antagonise the protective daddy-bear but it was frankly too fun not to.

"Don't play games, Hook," the prince's tone was warning, "And then no one needs to get hurt."

"Hurt?" Hook's eyebrows raised in a look of mock surprise. "I wasn't aware we were having a showdown, I would have brought my more impressive hook – you know, to add a bit of showmanship."

Charming's face reddened, the tendons in his muscular neck strained, as he tried not to punch Hook there and then.

"Pirate," he growled, sounding more and more like a bear with each passing minute, "I will _not _spell this out for you."

"I'm sorry, mate, I think you're going to have too…" Hook shrugged, looking puzzled.

"Emma…"

"Yes, what about her? Fabulous woman, all legs and her breasts are to die fo-ach!" Hook choked on his last words as he found himself thrust against a tree with Charming's thick arm crushing his windpipe.

"Wanna say that again?" Charming said, slowly, his blue eyes flashing dangerously.

"Ach…eugh…" Hook choked some more, gasping for air. He had pushed too far, he knew it, and now he was paying for it. Why couldn't he just be less antagonistic? There had to be something wrong with the way his brain was wired. The same brain that was currently running short on oxygen. "I'm…sorry….eugh…."

Charming released him and Hook felt the glorious cool air whoosh back into his lungs. He gulped in as much as he could and tried to ignore the pain of his bruised windpipe.

"I'm not messing around here, Hook. I know you saved my life and you do seem like a nice enough guy _but_ _then_ you go around shooting your mouth off like that and acting like you do and you know, it just doesn't inspire much trust in you." Hook had the grace to look a little contrite but at the same time he couldn't help how he acted, that was just who he was. It's not like he hurt anyone by flirting with people after all.

"It's just who I am, m'lord," Hook said, unapologetically.

"Exactly," Charming said, jumping on his confession, "And that's why you need to leave my daughter and Neal alone."

"Hang on…"

"No, leave them be, Hook. You saw how much they mean to each other in the cave. They have a child together and they've found each other after all this time; just like true love always does. Do you not think she's been through enough bad guys in her life already without adding you to the list?"

"I'm not a…" Hook began but David cut him off.

"Henry will need a strong family when we get him back, especially with Mary Margaret and I remaining here, so they could do without the meaningless interference of a dishonest pirate. Do you really want to deprive the poor boy of a chance at his happy ending? You have to remember true love will always prevail, Hook, just look at me and my wife."

Hook fell silent. His quick lip had failed him for once and all he could do was allow Charming's barbed words sink further into his heart. He was right. What Emma and Neal had was true love and he was just a nuisance – a nuisance who had had his chance at true love and lost it over a hundred years ago. Milah had been his one chance at a happy ending and she was gone. And he shouldn't be trying to break up a family, he'd done that once before and nothing good came of it – every single person involved was hurt by the fall out.

"Do you understand, Hook?" Charming said, grinding his message home.

"Yes…. Yes I think I do," Hook said, staring at the gnarled bark of a tree, trying not to allow the hurt seep into his voice. "I'll stop messing around with Emma and let her find her true love."

"Good, I'm glad we're on the same page." Charming morphed back into a normal human being now, his fair face pleasant and warm. "Shall we go get some wood then?"

Hook nodded, trying his best to ignore the leaden feeling of the broken heart in his chest.

* * *

He didn't stare at her any more, didn't try and catch her looking at him, didn't surreptitiously try and rub his knee against hers when they sat side by side. Essentially he tried to imagine she wasn't there at all being her beautiful, brave, intelligent self.

Instead he focused on the task at hand: finding Henry so they could get the hell off this island. They had the shadow and they had Tink. All they needed now was to find that blasted imp of a boy. _Peter Pan_. The boy who had bested him more times than he cared to count. He was a horrendous creature who didn't think it inhumane to rip small boys from their beds and murder their families. They hadn't even seen the worst of him since being on this island and that was what Hook was afraid of. It made his guts twist into knots just thinking about what the immortal man-child was capable of doing. After all, he was the one that orchestrated the death of every single man on the Jolly Roger making sure that Hook had to watch every horrific end. Twenty-two deaths. The memories still haunted his dreams.

"You look worried, care to share?"

Her unique scent and her calm, quiet voice caught him off-guard and he froze; every nerve in his body felt like it was quivering beneath his skin. Annoyed with himself, Hook forced himself to calm down. She was just a woman. Just a woman. He'd had plenty before and he could have plenty in the future. She didn't belong to him. He repeated the mantra in his head several times before he found his voice.

"I'm fine, Swan."

"You don't look fine; in fact, you look kinda green… like someone colored you in with a vomit-colored Crayola."

"Even though I didn't understand half of that, I'm guessing it's meant to insulting?" He glanced at her, almost shyly, like he was sneaking a peak of something he shouldn't.

"No, not insulting," Emma replied, pausing for a moment to try and catch his eye but he'd already looked away, "It was meant to show concern."

"Oh don't be stupid, love, you don't have time to worry about me. You need to focus on Henry."

"But if you're not well…"

"I'm perfectly healthy," Hook interrupted, meeting her gaze finally and finding, much to his surprise, how concerned her expression was. It was almost a nice feeling, to have someone worry about him when they hadn't in such a long time. Unfortunately, it was a feeling he had to quash if he wanted to make sure he wasn't ruining someone else's life. "See, spry as a hare." He jumped to his feet and unintentionally shot her a white-toothed grin.

Emma smiled back, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture made his heart lurch unexpectedly as he was reminded of the beanstalk and their adventures up there; how close they'd felt even then. Swiftly, he turned away and began to leave.

"Hey, where are you off to?" Emma asked, jumping to her feet too and catching his sleeve. "I thought we were having a conversation there. You still aren't telling me something." Her pretty face was marred by the deep furrow lines between her eyebrows – something Hook couldn't help but liken to her father.

"There's nothing to tell, lass," he replied, his tone sharper than he had intended. "Now why don't you run along back to Mr Swan and leave me in peace."

Emma released his arm abruptly, stepping back as if she'd been slapped. She had recognized earlier that Hook had been off with her but she had not expected this sudden change of tune. Her face was full of hurt and confusion but Hook ignored that and headed off into the night, unable to take her company any longer.

"Hey, Emma, I caught a fish. You want some?" Emma caught sight of Neal heading towards her, holding a glimmering bream in his hand. "Isn't she a beauty?"

"I'm not hungry," she answered, abruptly, "I'm going for a walk."

"Emma, you can't go out at this time."

"I can do what I want. I'm an independent woman," Emma replied, fiercely. She could suddenly feel tears stinging her eyes, like little pinpricks. Blinking, she backed away. "I'll be back in twenty minutes. I'll eat then." She said the last part to appease him but she doubted that she would feel like eating, not when she felt like this.

Neal looked more than a little shocked by her outburst but he didn't stop her as she went marching out into the jungle with her knife and crackling torch. Snow looked up from where she was banking the fire and shot him a questioning look. He shrugged in return. He wasn't sure what had gotten into Emma lately, everything he did seem to upset her. He was trying his absolute best to make up for his past wrongs but it just didn't seem to be enough. With a sigh, Neal sat down and began to gut the fish.

* * *

Emma ducked beneath an overhanging vine and carried on her aimless march through the trees. She could hear the crickets chirruping in the nearby plant-life and the moon was already casting an eerie glow on everything around her. Several nocturnal animals were already peering out of their burrows, ready for a night's foraging. She engrossed herself in the noises of the jungle: the hums, squawks and squeals. She had to admit it was much nicer than the ugly sounds of the city back home.

She wasn't really sure why she had come on this walk. She supposed partly she had been hoping to follow Hook but he seemed to have vanished into thin air and partly she had wanted to clear her head so she could refocus on the task of finding her son safe and sound. Somehow she had allowed the reappearance of Neal and Hook's unexpected confession to cloud her judgement and she couldn't allow that to go on any longer. What kind of mother was she if she could allow herself to be distracted from saving her son? Just thinking about her inadequacies made her feel sick to her stomach.

Suddenly, she found herself in a clearing that was bathed in moonlight and to the edge of the clearing was a small spring that glistened and bubbled. Slowly, she padded over to it and stared at the rushing water, trying to calm her taut nerves. Eventually her tension eased a little and she allowed herself a moment to sit down.

It was as she was sitting watching her reflection in the rippling water that she saw a shadow pass behind her but before she could react something solid connected with her skull and blackness filled her vision.

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note - Thank you for the reviews! Keep them coming please! **

* * *

Hook whistled cheerily to himself as he walked back to the camp. He felt more in control now that he'd had some space from Emma; her proximity was just too much sometimes. It was strange; he didn't think any women before her had affected him in such a way, even Milah. There was just something intangible about Emma Swan that drew him to her and made him helpless to his emotions when he was near her. However, he knew he had to snap out of this love-sickness as it wasn't helping anyone, least of all Henry. Hook didn't even like to think about what the boy was being subjected to in Pan's den. Thinking about Henry immediately made him think of Baelfire and he felt his gut clench reflexively. Betraying Bae had been a dark secret that plagued the back of his mind for a very long time. If he wanted he could immediately conjure up the image of the boy being cast out into the sea surrounded by a gaggle of hard-faced Lost Boys. Nothing could erase the look of hurt in the boy's large brown eyes.

Hook was running that scene through again as he entered the camp, reminding himself how he'd already ruined so much of Neal's life, when something collided with his jaw.

"Whoa!" he cried out, reeling backwards. Waves of pain shot through his face and he felt tears immediately spring to his eyes from the shock. He blinked them away. "What was that for?" His gaze fell on Neal who was standing in front of him, clutching the hand which had just collided with his jawbone.

"Damn hand hurts now," Neal growled.

"Well that's to be expected when you punch someone in the face. Badly, I might add," Hook replied, glibly, rubbing his unshaven chin experimentally. "Was there any particular reason you were trying to dislocate my jaw? Or were you trying to break my neck because, trust me, next time add a bit more welly!"

"_Trust_?!" The word seemed to send Neal into spasms and Hook frowned in confusion, his dark features furrowing.

"Hey, mate, before you have a fit or something do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

"How can I trust you when at every moment you're trying to steal Emma from me?"

"Wait, come on, I've backed off. She's yours."

"Oh yeah, then how come you've both been gone for god knows how long in that damned jungle? Hey? Answer me that!"

"I…." Hook stammered for a moment, perplexed by this turn of events. "Emma was in the jungle?"

"Don't act dumb, Hook," Neal scowled, glaring at the pirate.

"I'm not, I don't understand. I went into the jungle alone to… clear my head," he said, an ominous feeling building in the pit of his stomach, "But Emma wasn't with me at any point. I'm telling the _truth_." He said the last sentence with vehemence, his light blue eyes strikingly serious.

"But she left just after you," Neal began, his voice losing its conviction.

"Well she sure as hell didn't _find _me so where is she?" Hook replied, panic rising. He ran his hands through his dark hair, worrying it into tufts. "Why did you let her go out on her own?" It was his turn to be angry. He felt the heat of his emotions burning his cheeks as he took a threatening step towards Neal.

Neal shook his head, seemingly unable to believe how dire this situation may have just become. "I just… she was angry… and I…." he trailed off realising that he had no excuse for allowing the so-called love of his life wander into danger. Hook could have punched him. Instead he channelled that irritation into rallying the troops.

"Charmings!" he shouted, "We have a situation!"

Snow looked up from where she was skewering the fish and glowered. "Will you two stop bickering like children? Don't you think we have enough to be concerned about?" She sounded like the teacher she used to be scolding some misbehaving schoolboys.

"I _think _that you may want to concern yourself about this," Hook replied, sharply. He was already half looking in the undergrowth for signs of where Emma could have gone. He had already spotted some broken branches which could be vital clues.

"What are you talking about, Hook?" Charming interrupted, appearing from his guard post on the other side of the camp. He already had his hand on the hilt of his sword, prepared for anything as always.

"Emma," Neal butted in, "Emma is missing."

It took a moment for the statement to sink in and then all hell broke loose.

"Since when?"

"Where did she go?"

"How do you know she's missing?!"

"Are you sure?"

The questions spilled forth but Hook didn't have time for them. He had to find Emma, to see that she was safe and well and not lying dead in a pool of scarlet blood like he was imagining, limp like a child's ragdoll. Ignoring the frantic words of his companions, Hook plunged into the depths of the jungle, his eyes peeled for further signs of Emma. He was vaguely aware of the sounds of their voices following behind him but he didn't turn for a second, not when a second could mean the difference between finding Emma alive and safe and….and something terrible.

"Hook! Hook!"

Snow called after the pirate but he was intent on his task and she knew there was no way to slow him down. Part of her knew it was hugely dangerous for them all to be charging through the dark trees at this hour without checking for Lost Boys and other harmful things but really all she could think about was the fact her daughter was somewhere out here, alone and vulnerable. In fact, she was quite grateful to Hook for snapping into gear so quickly. He may be a pirate but he was also a man of action – much like David – and didn't dally around when someone's life was at risk, especially someone who she was fairly certain he cared about very deeply.

She scurried after the group of men, hissing quietly in pain when a branch whipped back and hit her in the face. It stung but it was nothing compared to what she had dealt with before. Hurrying forth, she was a little more vigilant of violent plant life but she couldn't spend too much time worrying about herself when Emma could be in greater danger. She honestly didn't know what she would do if they lost Emma now. She prided herself in being a strong woman but to lose her only daughter would devastate her; just as she imagined it would devastate every other person in this little motley band. It was strange to think that Emma could bring all these people, from such different backgrounds, together. Snow was reminded of what an important person she was, not just because she was the Saviour but because she touched so many people without realising and made them care, made them want to do better. Both Hook and Neal were prime examples of this, perhaps even Regina to some extent. It was a trait she had passed onto Henry. The two of them, they were truly special. That's why they all needed to fight tooth and nail to make sure they were safe.

"No…"

Snow heard the anguish in Hook's voice and immediately knew that whatever he had found was about to turn her world upside-down. The three men had stopped in a clearing up ahead and she hurried to join them. The moment she saw what they had she wished she had stayed behind.

It shone sickeningly bright in the moonlight, like a sticky resin, coating the rock. They all knew it wasn't resin though. Resin wasn't bright red and didn't leave a coppery tang in the air. Snow brought a single hand to her mouth as she gasped. Instantly, she felt David by her side, comforting her with a squeeze. It wasn't enough though. It couldn't erase what she had seen in front of her. It was like being back on that ship's foredeck again, willing Emma to cough water out of her lungs. This was worse though as she had no idea what had happened here and where her child was now.

"Is that all there is?" she managed to choke out.

"Yes." It was Hook that answered, his voice rough with emotion. Neither Neal nor Charming seemed to be able to form words yet.

Slowly, the pirate bent his knees and crouched down beside the rock that was glistening so offensively at them. Tentatively he reached out a hand and picked it up, grimacing as he felt the wetness beneath his fingers. "It's cold," he whispered, "Which means this happened a while ago."

"And we didn't even notice," Neal lamented, rubbing a frustrated hand across his forehead. "_How _could we have not noticed?"

Hook thought it best not to point out that he would have noticed immediately had he been at the camp but he doubted that would go down well.

"It must have been Pan," he said, staring off into the distance, imagining the wretched imp dancing with glee at having claimed the Saviour. He shuddered at the thought of Pan laying a single hand on her. He would pay if he did. Hook held grudges for a very long time as a certain Dark One knew very well; he hoped Pan knew that too.

"This is too awful," Snow murmured, turning to bury her face in Charming's shoulder. He cradled her there, his own face tense with worry.

"There must be something else. Tracks?" the prince suggested, looking hopefully around the clearing. "A…. a blood trail?"

"Nothing," Hook replied, "Pan knows how to hide too well."

"Then how do we get her back?" Charming snapped.

"I…. I think we should focus on finding Henry. That's what Emma would want and that's most likely where she'll be too. So we stick to our previous plan."

Everyone looked at him, surprised by the authority in his voice and the logic of his plan. No one expected Captain Hook to be the calm man in a storm which was surprising and almost amusing considering the several hundred years he had been a pirate.

"I agree with Hook," Neal said, finally seeming to snap out of his trance-like state of guilt and worry. "Let's fetch Tink and go get my family."

The Charmings nodded and quickly the party turned on their heel, heading back to camp. Hook lingered a little longer, staring at the stone in his hand and then at the scenery around him. He tried to envisage Emma here by the spring, lost in her own thoughts, probably still reeling from his rudeness earlier unaware of the danger lurking in the shadows. His heart clenched painfully as he realized that if he hadn't upset her then she wouldn't have been so reckless in coming out here on her own. How did he always manage to put the people he cared about in danger? Was he just cursed to lose everyone he loved? Milah, his brother, his men…

Standing there alone in that clearing he vowed to find Emma but once he did he would remove himself from her life, maybe that way she would not be harmed by the darkness that seemed to surround him.

* * *

Emma came around feeling like she had been at the tequila all night. Her mind felt muggy and her vision blurry. Her mouth felt like it was coated in sand. However what she couldn't put down to a heavy night on the shots was the sharp pain in the back of her head, like someone was stabbing her repeatedly with a shard of glass. Gingerly, she reached up to touch her skin and found her blonde hair was matted with sticky blood. She tried to recall what had happened but for the life of her she couldn't remember anything beyond her run-in with Hook. What had she done after that? She just drew a blank.

Groaning a little she pulled herself into a sitting position and looked around the enclosed space she had woken up in. It looked like she was in a cave of some kind. The walls around her were damp and smelt vaguely salty and beneath her fingers she could feel sand. A sea cave? Despite her brain being fuzzy it was still fairly adept at piecing the puzzle together. Yes, it was a sea cave; she could hear the sound of waves outside somewhere. However it was a sea cave with a difference: it had a door.

Hauling herself to her feet, Emma stumbled over to the door and tried the handle. It wouldn't budge. Locked. Go figure. Sighing, she briefly scouted the walls for some other escape route but came up with nothing. That didn't surprise her either. She was a prisoner then. A prisoner to whom? She could take a pretty good guess.

As if just thinking his name made him appear, the door opened and Peter Pan stepped into her cave. He already had that cocky, know-it-all smile on his face. Emma scowled defiantly. Whatever he wanted from her, he wasn't going to get it.

"Ah, Emma, it's so nice to finally get some proper alone time," Pan said, genially, rubbing his hands together. "I've been saving this cell especially for you, you know."

"You could have done a bit of redecorating then if you were expecting me," Emma quipped, eyeing the slimy walls.

"Oh a quick wit too, you really are the full package aren't you, my dear Saviour."

"Don't call me that," Emma said a little too quickly.

Pan smirked. "Touched a nerve? I don't know why you find it so embarrassing. Many people would _love _to be a saviour, to bring _peace _and _happiness _to everyone."

"Somehow I don't think you're one of those people," Emma replied, dryly.

The elfin-like boy considered her for a second and then laughed. "No, I s'pose not. Still, it makes little difference whether you're the saviour or not for what I want to do with you."

"And what's that?"

"Oh nothing really, just a few games."

Emma felt her pulse quicken at the sly tone of his voice. She didn't like where this was going.

"Games involving what?"

"Oh just a few people you love…" Pan replied. Suddenly he clicked his fingers and images popped up on the far side of the cave, almost as if he had placed a projector screen there.

"Henry!" Emma gasped, "No, don't hurt him! Please!" She found herself stepping towards the moving pictures of her son even though she knew in her heart he wasn't really there.

"I found that mirror you know. Not a very smooth plan, I have to say. I've disposed of the boy too, just to let you know – you know, the one you allowed the heart to be ripped out of." Emma grimaced and looked away from Pan's leering face. "Anyway, I thought I'd employ some of that magic myself although mine's a little more impressive."

The image on the wall suddenly became three-dimensional and Emma could actually see her son sitting on a log looking lost and tired. He had his red checked shirt on and the same jeans that she'd bought him a few days before he had got kidnapped. She wanted to cry just at the sight of him but she bit back her emotions – that would mean Pan was winning.

"What's this supposed to achieve?" she spat, angrily. "Or are you just showing me how good your CCTV is in Neverland?"

"Ah, you'll see. This is just the beginning, Emma Swan."

He clicked his fingers again and the image changed.

It was Neal. He was frantically packing up belongings, throwing them haphazardly into his bag. She didn't think she had seen him look so flustered before, even when they had been on dodgy ground in their scams he had always kept his cool. She could see from his face that he was upset – she had always been able to suss out his emotions pretty well – but here it was written across his features like an open book. Her heart went out to him as well. He shouldn't have to deal with this, not on top of getting shot, falling through a portal, losing Henry and getting tortured by Pan.

Quickly, she looked away, steeling herself to Pan's mind games.

"That all you got?" she said, nonchalantly.

"Don't underestimate me, Saviour."

With a final click of his fingers, he revealed another 3D image.

She would recognise that tall, dark figure anywhere with his straight back, broad shoulders and sharp jawline… having said that she didn't recognise the emotion marring his handsome face. Frowning she moved a little closer, scrutinising the look in his sky blue eyes.

Fear.

Captain Hook looked scared. Scared of what? He hadn't been scared once: not climbing the beanstalk, not sailing in the storm, not fighting with the Lost Boys. So why did he look scared now when he wasn't even in harm's way?

"He's scared of losing you," Pan supplied, as if he had read her mind. "Isn't that just _adorable_?"

He shot her a terrible, shark-toothed grin and Emma felt her heart drop into her boots.

* * *

**Review?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note - Thanks for the reviews :)**

Emma tried to speak but every time she opened her mouth no words came out. It was like being in a horrible dream where she was unable to call for help – except this wasn't a dream. This was a reality in which she was tied to a tree, her arms burning with the pain of being hung from the highest branches. Even if she tried to scream no one would hear her; she couldn't even scream to appease her own pain. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes but she was unable to wipe them away so they just flowed unhindered, stinging and salty. She had tried to kick her legs out so she would swing back into the trunk of the tree but there was nothing for her boots to get a grip on. The bark was too pale and smooth like the impassive face of a stone-hearted witness. She tried again and again until she had to hang still, exhausted and in agonizing pain.

Pan had left her up there some time ago – she wasn't even sure when as she had lost track of the time. He had flown her up there casually and tied her hands together with a length of rope before lassoing it round the tree branch.

"I reckon you'll get a much better view from up here," he had said, his mouth twisting in a horrible leer, before chucking her chin, "We don't want you ruining the show though; can't have any interruptions." His eyes had flashed then and Emma felt her throat seize like someone had grabbed it. She had tried to yell out but no sound escaped her lips. Pan had muted her and hung her up there like some ghastly tree decoration. She didn't think she had ever felt so helpless.

Desperately trying to block out the pain that was shooting down her arms and into her shoulders, Emma looked for any other methods of escape. Was there any way of generating enough power to swing herself up and on top of the branch so she could reach the knot? Unlikely. Could she wriggle free? What purpose would that serve though other than allowing her to plummet to her death? She was a good forty foot up. How long was Pan going to leave her here? Was his plan for her to die hanging from a tree? That seemed too easy for him.

"Boys! I propose a toast," Pan's youthful voice reached her ears and Emma looked down to see that he had gathered his gang, "To the newest member of our island and to our band of brothers: Henry!"

There was a loud cheer and Emma craned her neck, desperate to get a glimpse of her son. Someone pushed him forwards and Henry's half child-half adolescent form appeared in the middle of the circle. He looked so awkward, all knobbly elbows and clumsy legs. Emma watched as he threw worried glances around the circle, wondering what was in store for him. She felt her heart squeeze in concern.

"Ah Henry, you're almost one of us now," Pan said, clapping a hand on Henry's shoulder, "Courageous, strong and free to do as we please! We are untouchable here! There's no one feed us lies or _abandon_ us or treat us like we're irrelevant. We can be ourselves without judgement."

The word 'abandon' was said with such clarity that Emma was sure it was directed at her and what she'd done to Henry. She wanted to yell to him, to tell him that what Pan said wasn't true but she knew no sound would escape her lips. Henry was looking at Pan in such idolization that she knew he was sucking up every word. It upset her to realize that Henry could believe that he was better off here than back in Storybrooke with his family. Did he really feel so hurt by her past mistakes that he wasn't willing to trust her again? She guessed it just came back to the fact she wasn't cut out to be a mother; a niggling feeling that she tried to quash every day.

"So Henry, now you're one of us, would you like to take part in one of the celebratory games?"

"Er…" Henry hesitated, his big brown eyes uncertain.

"It involves magic and flying."

Henry looked both excited and worried at the same time. He had always been taught that magic came with a price so for Pan to mention using it for frivolity – that put all his principles into question. He was only eleven years old after all so it wasn't surprising that he was struggling not to be enticed by the thought of flying. Despite knowing this, Emma still willed him to be stronger, to be aware of Pan's deviousness and to be the quick-witted little boy she had met in her apartment not so long ago. Unfortunately, in the face of temptation even Henry caved.

"Yes, please," he said, a small smile gracing his face.

"Fantastic. Ludo, lead the way to the pixie tree!"

The Lost Boys whooped and hollered as they all scampered from the clearing below Emma's tree and she watched with a heavy heart as Henry chased after them. It was only Pan who lingered so he could glance up at the tree and shoot her a triumphant grin.

* * *

The remaining members of the original rescue-Henry-party were trekking further and further into the jungle. They had picked up Tinkerbell on the way and explained their plan. She seemed a little skeptical but had eventually given way to their persuasion – especially when she saw how agitated Hook was. They were long-time friends and she knew he didn't care about a lot so this woman and her son must be important to him. She tried to talk to him about it as they walked but he was distant, focused on the task ahead. Still that didn't stop her from persisting.

"Hook, what's wrong?" she said for what must have been the tenth time, "I'm your friend, you can tell me."

Still the pirate stared straight ahead, his light blue eyes hard as stone.

"Hook?"

"Tink, I don't want to talk about it."

Finally! At least he had spoken instead of blanking her. She seized on the opportunity, practically running beside him to keep up with his long stride.

"Are you lovers?"

"No," Hook's voice was rough but his face gave nothing away. This just made Tinkerbell even more curious as it was obvious he was hiding _something_ from her. She wasn't quite sure what his relationship with the blonde woman was then if they weren't sleeping with each other. He hadn't really cared about anyone more than that since his Milah who he always used to talk about. No matter how hard Tink had tried – and she had! – she hadn't managed to make him feel the same about her, to want to stay in Neverland for her. That was still a bit of a sore point.

"Then what? Why are you back in Neverland, in a place you swore to me that you would never set foot in again?" They were a little ahead of the rest of the group so she felt comfortable asking these questions, fairly certain they would not be overheard.

"I can't explain…" Hook sounded strange, his words heavy in his mouth.

"What can't you explain? The Hook I knew never had problems talking."

"Well, I'm different now, Tink. I've changed."

Tinkerbell snorted, she couldn't help it. The womanizing, slightly mad, ruthless pirate that she had met all that time ago would never change. He was exciting and mysterious and that had lured her in. Every time he had shared a tiny snippet of his past with her she had felt privileged, like she was breaking down his walls brick by brick. And even when he had set off on his quest to find the Dark One she had forgiven him, believing he would return and realize he loved her.

"Please tell me you haven't changed for _her_?" the fairy said incredulously.

"No," Hook said, softly, "I've changed _because _of her."

"Wow, she must be really good in bed then to convince the black-hearted Captain Hook to turn."

"It's nothing to do with how good she is in bed!" Hook sounded offended but Tink's words had the desired effect as he finally gave her his full attention, stopping in the middle of the path. "I don't sleep with every woman I meet. Well, not any more, as much as that may surprise you."

"What's that meant to mean?!" Tinkerbell's eyes flashed with anger as she shoved the pirate in the center of his chest. "Was I just one of those women?"

"Tink, I… I didn't mean…"

"What's going on?" Neal appeared on the scene, his face set in his eternal frown lines.

"Oh bugger off, Neal, this hasn't got anything to do with you," Hook snapped, waving the other man away. This didn't seem to go down well – unsurprisingly – and Neal took a threatening step towards the pirate.

"I think this has everything to do with me," Neal replied, fiercely, "It just shows how little every woman you have in your life means to you and that Emma is just another one in your long line of conquests. She doesn't mean squat to you! You just want to get in her pants."

Hook snapped, his expression morphed into indignation and he lunged forwards, throwing a punch straight into Neal's face. Neal reeled with the impact of fist on bone and stumbled backwards, falling onto his backside. Howling in outrage, he hauled himself to his feet and flew back at Hook, throwing punches in quick succession. One punch caught Hook on the eyebrow, drawing blood immediately and another struck him heavily on the chin, sending his jaw slamming into the roof of his mouth. He grunted with pain but ignored the warm blood streaming over his eye in favor of launching another fist at Neal.

"Hey, hey break it up!" As usual Charming was there to settle the conflict, pulling Neal bodily away from Hook just as Snow grabbed Hook's arm. Although he could have easily overpowered the smaller woman, Hook allowed himself to go limp in her grip, all the tension he had previously had in his muscles draining from him. "What is wrong with you two?!" Charming roared. "We have two people – my daughter and my grandson – in mortal danger and all the two of you can do is fight like animals? Do you even care whether we get them back safely at all?"

"Of course!" Hook and Neal both exclaimed.

"Well then act like you're better than schoolboys fighting over a girl and help us to find our family before it's too late."

Neal looked shame-facedly at the floor and Hook stared back at David, his blue eyes shining with intensity, before nodding slowly.

"Sorry, m'lord prince," Hook murmured. "Won't happen again…"

"Good. Now let's carry on shall we?"

* * *

"Well, well, well look at the two of them fighting over you _again_," Pan drawled, "How very special you must be to them both. Or maybe Neal is right and our good captain just wants to get into your pants – I have to say I've considered it…." Emma let out a small gasp, drawing her legs towards her. Pan shot her an amused look. "But I've decided I'm above that kind of thing."

Emma was currently on the floor of her cave, chained to the wall, but thankfully no longer strung up beneath a tree. It had taken Pan a good two hours before he had returned to free her from hanging agony. Her wrists were red raw and her arms felt like leaden weights by her sides but she was on solid ground again. She had wondered for a while whether she had dislocated her shoulders but if she tried very hard she could just about move her arms so the joints couldn't be too irreversibly damaged – she hoped. Pan had just showed her the images of Hook and Neal fighting and she was furious that they were coming to blows over her. They should be focusing on the task at hand which was finding Henry.

"Anyway, I do wonder the depth of the lovely captain's feelings for you," Pan continued, staring at the image of Hook on his projection, "And I think I've thought of the perfect way to test it. In fact, a way to test _both _of them to see if they're love for you is as genuine as they claim. Doesn't that sound exciting?"

"You make it sound like a game," Emma replied, a little breathless due to the pain she was still in.

"Ah but that's exactly what I enjoy, Emma, you must know that by now. After all, I've never grown up." He shot her a wolfish grin, his green eyes piercing hers as if they were trying to gain access inside her head, to know her every thought.

"What are you going to do?"

"I think a good old fashioned hand-to-hand combat would be a fantastic way to settle their dispute, don't you? Whoever wins gets to claim you. And to win all they have to do is draw first blood."

Emma frowned. That felt too easy, too vanilla. Knowing Pan he would have added a twist but what? Chances are he will just kill her despite who wins but she couldn't care less about that as long as they saved Henry and got him out of this damned hellhole before Pan could corrupt him any further.

"My Lost Boys have been craving a bit of entertainment. So, shall I summon the brave combatants?"

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	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note - Thank you for the reviews but even more reviews would spur me on more! Hint hint!**

Hook tried to ignore the throbbing in his head but the pain was incessant, making his whole face feel hot. He could feel the stickiness of the blood on his eyebrow; it was drying and making the skin tight and uncomfortable. Really he should try and find somewhere to wash it off but he was still too angry to stop and waste time on that. The anger bubbled in the pit of his stomach, pushing to be unleashed, but he knew that he could not let it out no matter how much he wanted to. The old him, the old ruthless Captain Hook, would have given in to his emotions instantly and allowed himself to see a blinding red rage. He would have tackled Neal to the ground and held his hook to his throat, threatening to slice open his neck. He might have even carried out his threat, if he'd been goaded enough. However, as he _had _to keep reminding himself, that was the old him. What he had told Tink was the truth, he felt like a changed man. Being part of this team, protecting the people around him, helping to lead them to their goal... it was all slowly changing him, making him see the light side of life once more. And he had Emma to thank for bringing him this opportunity.

_Emma_.

The mere thought of her sent his heart into a flurry of palpitations; he could almost feel it thudding against his chest wall. Once again he wondered what it was about her that made him into a lovesick teenager – the Killian who used to flush when a girl even talked to him growing up. Oh how things had changed since then.

"Hey, Killian…"

Hook jumped at the sound of his real name and looked over his shoulder to see that Mary Margaret – or Snow White… he got so confused about their names – was smiling gently at him. He looked at her questioningly, wondering what she wanted from him.

Seeing that it was her cue to speak, the small, dark haired woman fell into step with him. "I just wanted to see if you were okay? You're still bleeding." She gestured tentatively to his cut eyebrow. His sky blue eyes followed her hand; surprised at how delicate and pale it looked when he knew how much damage she could cause if she wanted. Like mother like daughter he supposed.

"Killian?"

"Oh, um…" he shook his head, realising he had completely blanked her and shot her a white-toothed grin. "I'm grand, darling. That lad hits like a baby, wouldn't bruise a peach."

"But you're bleeding," Mary Margaret pointed out, solemnly.

"He caught me funny," Hook replied, shortly, before changing the subject. "Anyways, how are you and your fella doing on working out what you're going to do when we have to leave this island? You going to shack up in a treehouse and make darling little jungle babies?"

Mary Margaret looked taken aback, her brown eyes widening in the face of his bluntness. "I… I…."

"That's what you're doing isn't it, love? Replacing Emma with a new tiddler as she's a little bit too independent for your liking…"

Even Killian was surprised by the venom in his tone but he found he couldn't stop himself; it was something he had been thinking about ever since Snow made her confession in the cave. He had witnessed the hurt on Emma's face, even in the gloom, how she had immediately closed herself off again – what little progress she had made with her parents was lost. Hook didn't know how they could do that to her, abandon her again when she was already so scarred by her childhood. A Lost Girl, as Pan would name her. That's part of why he was so desperate to help her get Henry back, so at least he would see some joy back in those deep, sad eyes. He hoped they would find them both safe and sound just so he could see the happiness light up her beautiful face – a family reunited in a way that Milah and Bae never were.

"Hook, you're out of line," Mary Margaret began, her voice full of indignation. She was puffing herself out, obviously gearing for an argument.

"Am I though?" Hook replied, calmly, unwilling to engage. All the anger he had felt earlier seemed to have dissipated and now all he could focus on was the image of Emma being reunited with the one person in her life who would never let her down, who loved her unconditionally and believed in her always. He knew he could never fill that role for her – not any more – but her son could.

"I…" the woman began to try and reply but in the end Hook didn't give her a chance, he just strode ahead leaving her in his wake.

The group had been travelling for hours now and were tiring quickly in the heat of the jungle. Hook was struggling especially in his leathers and had stripped off to his vest. Neal had shot him a disbelieving look but Hook had merely shrugged and shot him a daring smile, as if asking him to complain. However Neal hadn't risen to the bait and they continued in silence. Hook could feel the tension between them though; he reckoned the whole group could.

"Oh, I think we're here!" Tink exclaimed from up ahead. She stopped and dropped back, her job complete, allowing the rest of them to take the lead.

Everyone tensed up, pulled their weapons from their belts, and advanced slowly towards the line of trees that she had pointed at. Hook trod very carefully, making sure he didn't place his boot on a brittle twig or kick any stones. He knew that it was near impossible to surprise Pan but he would try his damned hardest to give them the best attempt. Unfortunately, Neal was hot on his heels and was not as light on his feet. Every crunch beneath the other man's sneakers made Hook wince, as if the sound was zapping him. He held up a hand to the others who were behind him, gesturing them to halt. He could see the camp through the leaves of the trees. It looked much too quiet. He felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle and his stump tingled– those were both signs that his body used to tell him it sensed danger.

Suddenly there was a scream from behind him. Whipping round Hook's horrified gaze fell on a Neal, Tink, Charming and Snow held by Lost Boys, who had materialised silently from the shadows, with sharp daggers glinting at their exposed throats. How could everything have gone wrong so quickly, his panicked brain asked.

"Put down your weapon, Hook, and no one needs to get hurt," Felix said, a nasty smile curling on his lips.

"What are the chances you kill us all even if I do that?" Hook replied, not lowering his sword.

"More than likely," Felix replied, his deformed face filled with amusement, "But what other choice do you have?" To reinforce his question he forced the very tip of his blade into the soft skin of Charming's throat. To his credit the prince didn't even flinch; Hook admired him for that.

"Point taken," Hook conceded, feeling all the fight go out of him. They had lost already. He had failed Emma and Henry. Dejectedly, he threw the sword down on the earth where it landed with a heavy thud.

"And the hook," Felix said, sharply, obviously not willing to take any chances.

The captain stared down at his shining hook for a long second, knowing that as soon as it was gone he would be nothing; just a one-handed pretender. There was no other option though. Slowly, he reached over and began undoing the straps that tied the prosthetic to his arm. It took him about a minute but it felt like one of the lengthiest minutes in his life with everyone watching him struggle with just one sweaty, shaking hand. Finally, he chucked the whole contraption on the floor.

"Happy?"

"Very," Felix laughed, "Now follow me, Hook…. Or maybe I shouldn't call you that anymore." As he spoke he gestured for one of his lackeys to pick up the prosthesis and the sword. "I might just call you Stumpy."

Hook glowered at the boy but said nothing. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he had riled him. Instead he just followed the procession, very aware of the sword point that had been thrust into the small of his back to keep him on track. The group marched silently into the clearing ahead but they did not stop there.

"Oh no, Pan has something much better planned for you," Felix said, slyly, after noting his confused expression.

As he walked Hook kept his eyes peeled for signs of Emma or Henry but he could see neither of them. He desperately hoped they were still alive. If either of them didn't come out of this alive it would be entirely his fault for taking the bean back in Storybrooke. He was the reason for all this danger they were in.

Due to the fact he was so wrapped up in his thoughts, Hook almost didn't notice they had come to a standstill but when he did and he looked around, he felt his jaw drop. They were in a natural canyon of some kind, surrounded by massive rock faces that were so tall they nearly blocked out the sunlight in a way that was quite suffocating. And in the bottom of the canyon was an arena that someone had pegged out. It was lined with crowds of Lost Boys who were all shouting and jeering at their arrival. Their angry little pinched faces always made Hook feel uneasy. These were boys who had never grown up, who had never learnt morals, never learnt empathy, had never learnt what was past the point of a fun game. It made him shiver.

"Ah, our champions have arrived!" Pan's familiar voice belted out across the canyon and Hook spotted him standing on a large boulder with his arms stretched wide like he was welcoming them. Always a showman. "Boys, would you be so kind as to bring them into the ring. You can tie the others up over there."

Frowning as he was lead towards the arena, Hook wondered what on earth the devil-spawn was planning this time. He seemed to be going to an awful lot of effort. It took Hook a moment to realise that Neal had been brought into the centre of the Lost Boys with him. So they were the champions then, he deduced. This could be interesting.

"Ah, Baelfire, my dear Captain Hook," he spoke to them each in turn, piercing their eyes with his sharp green ones, "I imagine you're wondering what all the fuss is about? Why I've finally dragged you from your quaint little quest into the midst of my camp?"

"Oh do quit with the theatrics, Pan," Hook interrupted, not willing to listen to his drivelling. "I'm growing grey hairs here."

Looking annoyed at the disruption, Pan quickly tried to regain his composure and jumped down from his rocky pedestal to come stand right in front of Hook.

"You watch your tongue, Hook," Pan hissed, threateningly. He stared darkly at Hook for a moment before his elfin face broke into a beaming smile. "As I was saying, Baelfire and Captain Hook have been brought together for one reason. That reason being their love for a woman. A woman who goes by the name of Emma Swan."

With a flourish, Pan stepped back and revealed a cage that had been hidden by the crowd of Lost Boys. Hook's breath went from his lungs momentarily as he caught sight of her soft blonde hair and her smooth skin, the familiar contours of her face that he didn't care to admit he had studied night on end.

"Emma…" he breathed just as he heard Neal yell, "Emma!" and charge towards her. He was halted immediately by Pan who seized him mid-stride with some kind of freezing spell.

"Ah, ah, ah, not so fast," Pan tutted, "She is your prize for winning this contest."

"Prize? What are you on, Pan?" Hook growled, not enjoying where this was heading.

"Oh you heard me right, Hook," the imp turned towards him and offered him a snake-like smile. "You have to fight if you want to have her. Let's see how much she means to you."

"I'm not fighting," Hook said, vehemently, his temper rising. This was reminding him far too much of the contest he offered Rumplestiltskin all those years ago: to fight for the right to his wife. It was only now that he realised just how wrong that was.

"If you want her back then you have to fight. Those are the rules, Hook. If you don't fight then you'll never see her again. Here, have some swords." With a clap of Pan's hands two swords clattered to the ground. Hook stared at them. "Whoever draws first blood gets to claim his prize."

"I will not fight for Emma because she is not a prize…ahhh!" Hook yelped as he felt something swoosh past his ear. Spinning round he saw that Neal had picked up his sword and had just taken a blind swipe at him. He looked a little embarrassed by his miss but was emanating determination.

"Oh, so that's how you want to play it?" Hook said, feeling a familiar anger rising inside his chest. As he spoke, he darted down and picked up the remaining weapon, weighing it in his hand. "How much did you learn from my lessons in the end?" he asked, casually, twirling the sword in his grip. "Not a lot judging by that last manoeuvre."

"Shut up, Hook, I don't want to talk anymore."

"I can see that," Hook replied, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. How could it have come to this?

Abruptly Neal launched himself at his opponent again. It was a rather wild move that Hook easily sidestepped before returning with a jab of his own that Neal only just avoided. Their swords clanged noisily, flashing in the sunlight. Hook pushed against Neal's blade, testing his strength. They stayed locked for a moment before both twisted away and went back on the defensive. It was Hook's turn to make the move this time and he timed his a little better. The tip of his sword sliced through Neal's filthy shirt but did not draw blood. He cursed at his failure but didn't have long to dwell on it as Neal was hitting back at him, grunting loudly with exertion. Hook was the more graceful of the two but he was a little off balance as usually he had his hook to assist him. What Neal lacked in refinement he made up for in pure power and determination. The two of them were surprisingly evenly matched.

However, Hook knew how to play on Neal's weaknesses unlike his opponent who wasn't experienced enough. He just had to lure Neal into making another wild lunge and then he would anticipate it, avoid it and catch his soft underbelly whilst he was unprepared. Usually at that point he would probably gut a man but this was Baelfire and he only needed to draw blood. There was no need for this day to end in death.

Quickly, he began to put his plan into action – very dimly aware of the shouts of the crowd – as he stepped a little bit closer to Neal, giving him the opportunity. Neal took the bait lunging forward.

"DAD!"

The young voice rang in the air, still sweet and unbroken, but full of fear.

Henry.

Hook's mind raced and he changed his mind at the last second, dancing out of the way of Neal's blade but not completing his plan. Henry was here, Henry was watching them fight. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Hook glanced in the direction of where the shout had come from and saw the boy, brown eyes huge and round with fright. He looked so much like Emma then. How could he deprive this innocent boy of his father just for the sake of his own feelings? Feelings that he had already told himself he couldn't act on even when he saved Emma. Shooting a look at Emma's cage he could see her holding onto the bars, her tight knuckles as white as snow, staring at him. She looked terrified and Hook sensed that was because of him – he was ripping this family apart just by being here. He should just let Neal win and then they could all be reunited.

Surprised by his own selflessness but determined to follow it through, Hook turned back to Neal who had been eyeing him warily like a nervous animal and put up his hands.

"Just do it. You win. You should be with your family."

"What?" Neal looked confused, wondering whether it was some kind of trick.

"Cut me and then this can all be over," Hook repeated, forcefully. He dropped his sword just to drive home the point he wasn't going to be fighting back and offered his arm. Neal seemed to get the message.

The other man stepped forwards and touched the blade of his sword to the proffered limb. Hook barely braced himself; he had endured far worse than a mere cut.

"Go on," he encouraged.

Neal took one last look into his eyes and then sunk the metal into his soft skin. After a millisecond he removed it with such abruptness he looked like he'd been electrocuted. Blood immediately beaded in the wound and began trickling down Hook's forearm. He smiled grimly at it. This was him doing the right thing.

Then why didn't it feel better? In fact, he felt terrible. He could feel a sudden heat behind his ears and there was blurriness to his vision that hadn't been there before. The cut on his arm was throbbing and sending shards of pain up his arm into his chest. Shards that felt like they had embedded themselves in his heart making it feel hot and tight in his chest. Suddenly he was finding it hard to breathe and he fell to his knees. The last thing he thought before he blacked out was he should have known this would be a bloody trick…

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